To Be Continued
by ScaryElwes
Summary: Adam brings lunch to a very busy Lawrence at the hospital. He jumps at the opportunity to help relax him even more. Chainshipping.


_A/N: I did it, kids. I wrote a Chainshipping fic. After an embarrassing length of time and an endless amount of empty promises, I wrote something involving Chainshipping. It feels like 2011 again (that was almost three years ago. Tears). I'm going to ignore the current state of my once dear_ Saw archive and bask in this glory while I can. Read on.

**To Be Continued**

Lawrence sighed. The sound was a withered one, barely breaking the stifled silence of his office. It'd been his prison for at least a few hours now, though the tedium of it seemed to have increased by double in the last one. He swore his vision blurred every time he tried focusing on the reports he was working on for even one solid moment.

Usually, he was capable of shoving everything down, locking in any and all traces of humanity so that he could get more work done. And he could be quite good at it, actually. He'd done it for years before certain things had happened. But with each passing blink, he could feel his titanium grip weakening.

It didn't help that he was drunk on afternoon tiredness, and absolutely _starving_.

The droning of his typing was suddenly interrupted by a rapt knock on his door.

"Come in," Lawrence said around the pen held captive between his teeth. Though, he didn't even look up, expecting a bothersome intern or one of his colleagues even.

Someone poked their head into his office, and Lawrence was surprised to find that it was none other than his fiancé. He was instantly alert, as if someone had flipped a switch.

"Adam!" he exclaimed, the pen slipping ungracefully from his mouth into his lap. He ignored it, though, so pleasantly surprised was he for the visit. Already, some of his annoyance was melting away.

"Hey man," Adam grinned. He stepped the rest of the way into the office and closed the door behind him. Adam moved with some strange sort of grace, Lawrence noticed not for the first time. His movements often seemed so fluid, moving with ease from one to the other. Even if it meant Adam couldn't still sometimes. It was a break in the hospital's monotony to marvel at.

"What's up? Why aren't you out with your camera?"

For a while now, Adam had been working on a project detailing candid life in the slums of LA. He'd once claimed that it was one he was most excited for, and Lawrence had to agree with him.

Adam pursed his lips and gave a shake of his head.

"Nah, I wasn't really feeling that much today. But it's fine, I've been making good progress. So, I thought I'd go and get you something."

For the first time, Lawrence noticed that he had a hand hidden behind his back. As he watched, Adam revealed that it was holding a to-go bag for Panera. Lawrence could almost hear a chorus singing joyfully at the sight. Wonderful, wonderful Adam.

"Oh, Adam, you didn't."

Adam smirked at the unharnessed elation on Lawrence's face.

"Well sadly, I did," he said with mock solemnity, placing the bag on the far corner of Lawrence's desk. "You also had an iced coffee, but I ah, I accidentally drank it on the way."

Lawrence hastily shook his head. "No no, it's fine. This is actually great enough on its own." He grabbed the bag, taking a peek to confirm that it was his favorite item on the menu. "Thanks so much."

"Don't worry 'bout it," Adam said, making his way over to lean on Lawrence's side of the desk. He glanced at the several documents open on the computer, as if pretending to understand whatever it was they said.

"So I'm guessing you're busy? I'm pretty sure I smelled burnt hair when I came in."

Lawrence sighed again, almost dreading to follow Adam's gaze to the screen.

"I'm swamped. Dr. Patel in neurology won't get off my ass about the surgery we're doing next week, because for some reason he's got it in his head that an _oncologist_ doesn't know what to do about a brain tumor. And then the surgery is on this poor girl, wants to be a singer, and she really could make it if it weren't for, you know. And…"

Lawrence drifted off, though, when he looked up to find Adam studying his face more than his actual words. Having caught him, he quirked a brow.

"Sorry." Adam gave a small smile, even flushed a little. "It's not that I don't care about that cocky bastard or the girl, but I just want to know if you're doing okay. You know, really okay."

Lawrence could immediately tell that Adam wasn't referring to the here and now. He wanted to know if Lawrence was stretching himself too thin again. He was always worrying about it, almost monitoring how much work Lawrence took on for both of their sakes. So Lawrence paused, having to actually contemplate his response.

"I think I'm fine, Adam." And he was. It'd be difficult to get like he was last time. "Really fine. Now that you're here," he added on.

Adam seemed satisfied with the answer. He reached out, and ran his hand through Lawrence's neatly combed hair. "Good."

They were already studying each other, so Lawrence could instantly see Adam's expression change into something pleasantly familiar. He stepped forward, the desk's groan stark loud in the silence. The hand in Lawrence's hair travelled south, until it was stroking Lawrence's cheek. As if in slow motion, Adam mirrored its actions and leaned forward, until he was inches away from Lawrence's neck. And Lawrence let him, blinking dumbly at this sudden change in conversation.

Despite _him_ being the one in the suit, he felt all power slip from his fingers to the one wearing a jacket and jeans.

"Adam…" He'd meant to sound cautious and warning, but his voice came out in a traitorous questioning tone.

In reply, Adam pressed a firm kiss to the side of Lawrence's neck. Once. Twice. One more. And that was while his mouth was still closed. Lawrence let him have his fun, trying to ignore his body waking from its stupor and reacting to the gestures. When that in itself became too difficult, he groaned and pressed a hand to the back of Adam's head.

"Adam." His words escaped in a sigh. "I'm working…"

His torturer hummed with unrestrained glee. "Why do you think I'm doing this?"

"The door."

"It's closed."

"Not locked."

"Always the one for details, you are."

"Jesus, Adam…"

"Shut up."

At this point Adam had popped the first button of Lawrence's dress shirt, the wet kisses having moved to his oh so weak throat. Half of his weight had joined Lawrence's on the office chair, with one knee resting close to his groin. Lawrence was forced to realize that he'd unconsciously swiveled closer to give him better access.

Again, the room seemed to grow fuzzy around Lawrence, yet the reasons as to why couldn't be more different. Adam's talented mouth was sending tingles that sparked all throughout Lawrence's body, focusing on one particular spot that was now impatiently asking for the most attention.

Somewhere near his pulse point, he felt Adam's lips meld into a victorious smirk.

"How's this for that list of fantasies I know you have somewhere?"

Frustrated, and refusing to just sit there, Lawrence guided Adam upwards to bring their mouths together. He held his face in both of his hands, wordlessly telling Adam just how inconveniently turned on he was making him. He could be cruel too.

The chair was now tipped at a dangerous angle. In the back of his mind Lawrence almost feared that they'd topple over with it. He could just picture it; hear the crash that would undeniably attract anyone who happened to be outside. Now _that_ would be a story that'd go around the on call room for weeks.

So, reluctantly, once Lawrence was painfully hard and Adam's clothes and hair were even more ravaged than his were, he let him go.

"Please leave now, Adam, before I do ungodly things to you on this desk."

Adam's eyes were bright, as if the words enough gave him ideas. Paired with his tousled hair, he couldn't look more desirable.

"Come _on_, Lawrence," he whined. "I can tell you want to."

"Of course I want to. But just not here. I don't think I could ever work in here again if we do."

"I'll be quiet."

Lawrence had to chuckle, albeit breathlessly. "And I can tell that _that_ won't be true in about thirty seconds."

Adam hesitated before speaking again, breaking the rhythm of their banter. Lawrence discreetly redid his button as he waited. Suddenly, a huge smile broke out on Adam's face, making his face brighter than it already had been. It was almost amazing how his childlike expression contrasted with his next words.

"I know! I could get under your desk, you know, on my knees, and I could-"

"Adam!"

Lawrence felt his face warm at the thought. Though he couldn't help but think: it _was_ doable. No, no, _no_.

"Just when I think you're being nice and bringing me lunch, you're actually taking the opportunity to be a horny little bastard. What am I going to do with you?"

His words were cutting, yet the grin on his face said otherwise.

Adam bit his lip, most likely fighting not to tell Lawrence just what he _could_ do with him. Though, he could sense that Lawrence wouldn't budge, so he eventually shrugged.

"Fine. I guess I'll go home then. Alone. All by myself in my current state."

"You got yourself in that state, if you can recall. Now c'mere."

He beckoned Adam back to him, and gave him a parting kiss far more chaste than the ones before. And then, gently, he pushed him away until the chair was back in its normal state. Adam made to leave with a sheepish yet pleased expression. Though, he briefly turned once he'd reached the door.

"Just don't think I'll be forgetting this," he said. "I fully intend on continuing."

And after a mockingly stern look, Adam was at last gone.

Lawrence laughed quietly to himself, but stopped abruptly when he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He looked desperately at the forgotten to-go bag, but couldn't find it in himself to be hungry anymore. So Lawrence tried to work. And naturally, nothing would come to him. His neck felt sore, marked, as if Adam's mouth and hands were still working their magic. At a certain point, Lawrence half-considered calling Adam and begging him to come back, but his conscience shot the idea down.

Finally, Lawrence gave up. With a mind that was on something vastly different from brain tumors and a now irksome stirring in his groin, he leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling.

God, he really was going to kill Adam for this when he got home.

But maybe he would let him finish what he'd started first.


End file.
